Typically This Wouldn't Happen
by RavenHeart101
Summary: 18-year-old Wyatt Halliwell has a new charge… a three-year-old Chris Perry. A twist to the classic Wyatt as Chris’ father stories. R
1. Chapter 1

**Typically This Wouldn't Happen**

**By: RavenHeart101**

**Disclaimer- I own nothing.**

**Summery- 18-year-old Wyatt Halliwell has a new charge… a three-year-old Chris Perry. **

**Warnings- This may be slash (m/m pairing) if I fast forward into Chris' teenage years. Other than that, there is child abuse, swearing and probably some others along the way. **

* * *

"_Sometimes it's easier to trust someone when you've never had anyone to trust before."- A.W. _

* * *

Typically, he would not be standing outside of a small town house in New York, instead of his own cozy San Francisco manor where he, his sister and parents lived. Typically, he would not be rubbing his head, trying to turn off the high-pitched ringing that was causing him a splitting headache. Typically, Wyatt Halliwell would be sleeping at about now. Instead, he was stuck finding his new charge, _joy_. Of course, the Elders never told anyone who this person was. All Wyatt could hope for was someone who at least was easy to persuade. Typically, the Elders would not pair the Twice-Blessed up with a child…

Wyatt sighed as his head ringed in annoyance. He growled quietly and began to walk up the driveway. He really hated his job. The door opened and his headache vanished. A little boy with chestnut brown hair stood in the doorway with a woman behind him. She was handing him something that looked like money and told him quite harshly. "Remember what I told you to buy?"

"Milk and bread." The little boy said back slowly. She nodded, her own brown hair encircling her face.

"Go now. I want you to be home before, Frank gets here." Her eyes softened and she rapped her arms around the child. She kissed his forehead gently. "Don't talk to strangers." The little boy nodded, before smiling. He turned away from the woman and ran down the steps. He stopped in front of Wyatt. The woman had already closed the door.

Wyatt glanced down at the child curiously. He kneeled down to his height. "Hi, I'm Wyatt, what's your name?"

"Mommy told me not to talk to strangers." The little boy whispered, looking down at his hands. One of them had a small bandage on it.

Wyatt smiled kindly, silently thanking his aunts for giving him cousins. "Well, I'm not a stranger. I'm supposed to protect someone." The child pursed his lips and looked up at the blonde with big green eyes.

"Like a powice man?" The little boy asked.

"Like a police man." Wyatt agreed, chuckling silently at the child's innocence.

"Uncey Frank doesn't like the powice." The child whispered.

"Why not?" The eighteen year old questioned becoming concerned.

"Secwet?" Wyatt nodded and the child came forward, whispering in his ear. "Mommy cawed dem. She gots in big twoble."

"What happened to your mommy?"

"Uncey punish her."

"How'd he punish her?"

"I- I gots to go!" The child said when he caught sight of the white Cadillac that had began driving up the road. He sprinted away and onto the sidewalk. He ran into a convenience store not that far away, Wyatt following him the whole way with his blue eyes. He had a feeling that that kid was his charge…

* * *

He was in the same place later that day, after going home to check in with his parents. He was worried, about what the kid had said about how his mother was punished for calling the police. The kid was cute, and he only looked about three. So why had he became his charge? Since when had the Elders been giving people children as charges? He sighed and pushed up his blonde bangs from his forehead and began to pace. The lights were on inside of the house, and he could see the woman, the kid's mother, inside cleaning up the kitchen table. He glanced at his watch; 5:09pm… back home. The little boy ran into the room hugging his mother tightly around the waist. She laughed and kneeled down in front of the child, telling him to do something. His face lit up and he ran out of the room. The woman smiled at the kid as he retreated, no sooner had she started putting away the plates had a man with dark carrot red hair came in behind her.

She pulled out of his embrace angrily, glaring at the man. Next thing Wyatt knew the woman was backhanded and thrown to the ground. She had tears in her eyes as she glared up at the man. Wyatt assumed he was Uncle Frank.

He turned around sharply when he felt someone pulling on his sleeve. Wyatt looked down at the little boy with surprised eyes. Had his mother told him to go outside? But it was nearly dark! The little boy buried his face into Wyatt's faded blue jeans. "What's wrong?" Wyatt asked quietly kneeling down to the kid's height.

"Mommy did sometin' bad." The little boy whispered. Wyatt than noticed how he had a cut on his left cheek. His eyes widened in anger and concern. He raised his hand to touch the boy. He jerked back. "Don'! Don' hurt me!" The child shrieked. Wyatt instantly tried to calm him down.

"No, no, no! I'd never hurt you! I'm trying to help you…" Wyatt bit his lip as the kid looked up at him with fearful green eyes. He raised his left hand noticing how the child flinched. "Here." He placed his hand over the cut on the boy's cheek, watching as his power shinned through his hand, lighting it with a golden light. Slowly the cut began to disappear, healing. In a matter on seconds, all that was left was a small scar on his cheekbone. The boy raised his hand to his cheek feeling the scar.

"How you do that!" He asked amazed. Wyatt smiled at him.

"It's my job." He whispered looking the child in the eye. "I'm supposed to help people like you."

"Uncey say I'm a fweak."

"Why?"

"'Cause, I make things move."

Wyatt's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "How?" He asked. "Can you show me?"

"It's bad."

"No. I think it's cool to be able to make things move."

"Rweally?"

"Really."

The boy narrowed his eyes at the ceramic cat that sat in the garden. He jerked his head upwards. Wyatt watched in amazement as the object floated into the air easily. He turned his blue eyes back to the sheepish child in front of him when the object had been gently placed back onto the ground. "Can you do anything else?" The child looked thoughtful.

"I don' think so." Wyatt smiled at the boy.

"You're not a freak." He said. "You're special." The boy smiled up at him, lighting up his whole face. His eyes sparkled with joy.

"Cool!"

"What's your name?" Wyatt asked, having forgot all about that.

"Chwis Pewy!" He found it absolutely adorable how the child could not say his r's.

"Well, Chris, I'm Wyatt."

"I know. I have to go." Chris looked down, shyly. "Can you come tomowwow?" Wyatt smiled before nodding.

"Of course. If you need anything at all I want you to call me, okay? Just yell out my name. You can even whisper it, and I will be here. I promise." Chris nodded, his brown hair bouncing up and down.

"Okay, Wy." He said eagerly, throwing his arms around the eighteen year old's waist. "Bye!" He ran into his house.

"Bye Chris." Wyatt smiled genuinely. He never liked kids… so why did he find this one so fascinating? Why did the name seem familiar some how? Those eyes… he could have sworn he saw them before.

* * *

"Finally! Geez, Wyatt we were about to start dinner without you!" Piper scolded lightly. Wyatt rolled his eyes and threw his football jacket onto the hook.

"Of course you were, mom." He hugged her in welcome and walked into the kitchen. Melinda looked up at him as he walked in, her brown hair falling into her brown eyes.

"Welcome back to the land of the living." She said a spooky voice. He laughed.

"Where's dad?"

"Held up at Magic School." Piper answered brushing her own dark locks out of her eyes. She placed the three plates of food on the dinning room table and sat down at her seat.

"And where have you been oh favorite brother of mine?" Melinda asked, already knowing the answer. Wyatt had told her when he got home… just not his parents. He swallowed a bite of his chicken.

"With Chris." He answered.

"Chris?" Piper asked surprised.

"So you've finally gotten his name, huh?" Melinda asked, knowing that their mother had no idea what they were talking about.

"Mhmm. I don't like his uncle though. I saw him hit his mother."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! What?"

"Honestly?" Melinda hid a smile from her mother's sight.

"You bet."

"Who's Chris?!" Piper shrieked, annoyed. Wyatt looked at her.

"My charge." He said. "He's a three year old kid… I think. He's so cute! He can't say his R's."

"Oh! That sounds just like how Henry was!" Melinda shrieked happily.

"Chris? As in Chris Perry?" Piper asked, Wyatt gave her a shocked look.

"Yeah. How'd you-?"

"This is not happening! No, no, no!" Piper yelled standing up from the table she looked Wyatt straight in the eye. "Tell them you can't have him! You can't!"

"Why not?" Wyatt asked outraged.

"I can't tell you! You just can't Wyatt!"

"I'll have who ever I damn well please as a charge, mom!" Wyatt yelled back. Melinda watched with wide eyes.

"Mom? Why can't he have Chris as a charge?" Melinda asked tensely.

"You don't get it do you?!"

"No mom I don't!" Wyatt and Melinda said at the same time.

"You just can't Wyatt!"

"That's not a good enough reason!" Wyatt yelled back, angrily. He glared at his mother, this was _crap_. This whole thing was a _load of crap._

"It can and it will be! I will not allow it!"

"Mom-!"

"No! I am not having the fucking little kid to come in and ruin our lives AGAIN!"

They all stood in a shocked silence. Until Wyatt looked up at his mother, anger showing in his blue eyes. "Again? Mom he's only a child. One that I believe is being abused. And if you can't understand that then screw you."

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**A: N- Like it? Love it? I want to know! Just no flames okay? This is supposed to be a twist to the classic Wyatt as Chris' stories. Tell me what you think. Oh, and don't expect fast reviews. I just started High School, so really… But please review. **

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	2. Chapter 2

Typically This Wouldn't Happen

By: RavenHeart101

Disclaimer- I own nothing.

Warnings- I forgot about some Piper bashing. Not a lot, I mean I do not hate her. But in season six, she really did not like Chris until she found out who he was.

Chapter 2

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"_Keep it up, the stars are close to your head now, it's magical times that we live in…"- Terra Naomi- Close To Your Head_

* * *

They all stood in a shocked silence. Until Wyatt looked up at his mother, anger showing in his blue eyes. "Again? Mom he's only a child. One that I believe is being abused. And if you can't understand that then screw you."

Piper sighed as her oldest turned his back on her. "Wyatt… sweetie, it's difficult."

"Well than explain it to me mom. 'Cause I'm this close to walking out of this house right now." He held up his thumb and forefinger to show just how close he was. Melinda's eyes flicked between the two of them.

Piper sighed and placed her head in her hands, sitting back down into her seat at the table. "Not right now, sweetie. Just-just let me talk to your aunts first." With one last glare Wyatt spun on his heal and up to his room. Melinda's quiet brown eyes fell onto her mother.

"Mom? What's wrong?" She whispered, placing her hand on her mother's shaking hand. Piper forced a smile.

"Nothing, hunny. Why don't you go bring your brother up his food?" Melinda nodded, picking up the two plates, planning to join her brother. She shot her mother one last concerned look before following in her brother's footsteps.

* * *

Typically, Piper Halliwell would never have allowed any child to stay in an abusive household. Typically, she would not be bothering her sisters with this. Typically, Leo would be the one having these problems, with accepting the neurotic white lighter back into their lives, not Piper. Typically, Phoebe would not be pissed beyond belief at her older sister; typically, she would try to be understanding. Well, so much for typical, that's practically been thrown out the window by now.

"He's only a child Piper!" Phoebe shrieked loudly. None of the three sisters noticed the two jumps that could have been heard from outside their mother's bedroom. Melinda stifled a laugh behind her hand.

"He did so much to us. He did nothing but hurt us!" Piper yelled back. Paige shrunk into Piper's bed.

"He may have hurt us but he helped us too." She pointed out. "We wouldn't be here today having the argument if it wasn't for him." Phoebe nodded.

"He hurt us. He hurt all of us." Piper tried to reason.

"No, Piper, he hurt you. And do you want to know why? Because you could never come to terms as to why after all that he did, he had to die. He had so much life to live, and you cannot come to terms with his death. You never fully let him go." Phoebe said angrily. She knew it was right; she did not need her empathy for that.

"I am not holding up emotions over his death!" Piper shot down.

"You avoid even speaking about Chris. Come on Piper you can't even say his name!" Paige attempted to reason with her.

"No, no, no!" Piper shook her head, trying to deny what they were saying.

"You cared about him. Just like Phoebe, Leo and I, and you cannot just accept that he needs our help. You don't want him back in our-_your_ life because you don't want to have to deal with the emotions."

"_He screwed everything up_."

"I'll admit that the kid had some flaws, because, honestly, he was kind of out of it, while in the past. He tried to help, he really did. Everyone knew that." Phoebe said, sitting down next to Piper, she took her trembling hands in her hands.

"How do we know that he wasn't always part of the family- in his future I mean? He did know us pretty well." Paige said placing her hand on her sister's shoulder.

"At least meet the kid." Phoebe suggested.

* * *

"Mommy?" A little voice whispered, the child stood in the doorway, light spewing into the dark bedroom from the hall. Hannah rolled over in bed, facing her child; she ignored the ache in her side where her bruises were kept. She smiled gently at the child and opened up her arms in a welcome. The child shuffled into them gently, having some difficulty climbing onto the tall bed. He buried his chestnut hair in her chest. "Is uncey gowne?" Hannah smiled tightly, nodding at her child. "He huwt Mommy." The child whispered as a statement. He hugged her tightly, closing his eyes before opening them. They shown bright blue and soon Hannah felt the pain in her side subside. She looked up at the child confused. He smiled up at her brightly. "Mommy okay nows?" Hannah smiled back, nodding. She held the child tightly in her arms as the both drifted off to sleep. The little boy had a secret, though, a column of bruises that were forming on the right side of his stomach. _Mommy never has to know_. He thought to himself, giggling in joy at his accomplishment.

* * *

"Wyatt?" Melinda asked as the walked silently up to his room again. "When are you seeing him again?"

"Tomorrow." He whispered shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Can I meet him?" She asked eagerly. Wyatt looked up at her through his blonde hair that was hanging into his face. He smiled lightly.

"Sure." He agreed. "Be ready at 10am, okay?" She nodded happily, hugging him tightly around the middle.

"He'll be fine. Mom will be fine. Everything will be fine." She whispered into his ear, walking away from him and into her bedroom. Wyatt hung his head in despair.

"I'm not so sure." He said to no one in particular. He did not feel like everything would be okay.

* * *

Melinda admired the house with wide eyes. "It's cute!" She shrieked. "I want to live here, when I grow up! White picket fence, lovely garden, _everything I ever wanted_!" Wyatt laughed at his sister as she skipped up the driveway. "So where's Chris? I want to meet him so bad!"

Wyatt chuckled, coming up behind her. "Don't worry. He'll be out in a few." She nodded, he short brown hair bobbing up and down with her head. She was wearing black; her black capries were baggy and had a few chains and a lot of zip up pockets. She was wearing a bright pink shirt that read, _I know you wish you had this_. Her brown hair was cropped short (Chin short), and in a straight mess of uneven hairs. She did it herself in the bathroom a few weeks before. Wyatt wore denim jean shorts with a brown belt, a brown shirt that read the school name _Harper High Football League_ in big blue letters. His blonde hair was somewhat long; it was in need of a cut, badly.

"Wyeet!" A voice small shrieked alerting the two of a child's presence. Melinda immediately fell in love. The brown haired bundle flew into her older brother's arms, nearly knocking him off balance. He caught himself though _(Darn she was really looking forward to that.). _He smiled at the child who had buried his face into his soft shirt. "Uncey's gowne." Wyatt smiled at the child. "He twook Mommy too." The smile immediately fell. He cast a concerned look at his younger sister. Melinda's brown eyes mirrored his own.

"Why'd they leave you here?" Wyatt asked gently. Chris shrugged.

"Come see my woom!" He hopped out of Wyatt's arms, pulling him into the house and up the long staircase that led to the upstairs rooms.

"Slow down, kiddo." Wyatt cautioned. Melinda followed behind the two, laughing silently at the sight. Wyatt quickly caught up with the child, halfway up the stairs. He whooshed him up into his arms and together they ran up the rest of the stairs, Chris laughing loudly the whole time. He had his fists in little balls around Wyatt's shirt. Melinda smiled at him gently when his green-eyed gaze fell onto her. He smiled back, shrieking when Wyatt threw him up into the air. "What room?" Wyatt asked looking at the four that were laid out in front of them. Chris pointed at the farthest room down the hall. Melinda opened the door for the two and herself, since Wyatt's hands were full.

"Wow." She whispered in amazement. There were elaborate pictures of people and things all over the walls. Followed by some that looked like the child, trying to copy the other ones, had drawn them. So Chris liked art, huh? She smiled, closing the door behind her. Wyatt was already sitting on the bed that was covered by rocket sheets, and one big cover with the picture of a big wolf on it. Chris snuggled up to Wyatt's side, showing him a picture book. She walked over to the two and sat down beside them. "Who's that?" She asked, pointing at a man who stood leaning over a cradle that probably held baby Chris. He had the same chestnut hair as the little boy.

"Daddy." Chris said cheerfully.

"Where's your daddy?" Wyatt asked gently tightening his arm that was around the boys shoulders.

Chris looked up, and he pointed. They both followed his finger. "He's with gwammy and gwampy." Melinda's eyebrow's furrowed in confusion.

"Where are Grammy and Grandpy?" She asked, fearing the answer.

"In Heaven." The child whispered, he traced his father's frame with his little finger. "Daddy visits me sometimes though, so how can he be dwead?" Wyatt shared a calculating glance with her. This kid was truly more powerful than they thought.

* * *

"He was so cute!" Melinda shrieked after they re-materialized at the manor. "I can't believe his father's dead though. That's so depressing."

"Mhmm. He must have some major power if he can call spir-" He looked up at the roof, eyes wide. "Got to go."

"Wyatt?" Melinda asked as her brother orbed away. "Wy?"

* * *


End file.
